BloodLines
by AlucardGnuoy
Summary: Young Dracula Fic Following The Turbulent Life Of Erin and Vlad's Daughter. First in series of four stories. Pairing to be introduced soon. Slight Vlad/Erin In Later Chapters ADDED CHAPTER 3
1. Cataclysmic Lies: Part 1

_Please check out my other stories too. Rated T just to be on the safe side, but probably won't go any higher than a K+ rating._

_Disclaimer: I do not own YD and this is only loosely based on it and is made purely for entertainment purposes and I do not intend to make a profit from it._

_Each chapter starts with a kind of 'voiceover' which is kind of a mini overview of the chapter and is written in first person, whilst the rest of the chapter is written in third person. The 'voiceovers' are in italics.._

_BEFORE YOU READ: THIS IS ONLY LOOSLEY BASED ON YD, THERE ARE BREIF MENTIONS OF THE CHARACTERS AND THE MAIN CHARACTER IS RELATED TO THEM BUT IT IS SET A LONG TIME AFTER YD. AROUND 21 YEARS TO BE EXACT._

_Also check out the OFFICIAL YOUTUBE CHANNEL for BloodLines by typing the following into the YouTube search bar - BloodLinesFF Trailer. (My name is BloodLinesFF) Here you will find out everything you need to know about BloodLines._

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_Everyday, a term used to describe the repetitive or common nature nature of something. So I guess you could say, today, was definetly not, everyday._

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A new dawn, signals the new day. A day that would in this case, begin like any other, but end, leaving one girl in doubt of who she was. That girl was Victoria Westwood. She had taken the name of the family who had adopted her near seventeen years ago. She knew nothing of her real family, as she was adopted almost immediatly after birth. It was now easier for her to call the Westwood's her family, as they treated her like family. The Westwood's resided in the sleepy town of Ahmia Falls. A town like any other. With it's dated corner shop's, it's small residential estate's and of course the local prison, otherwise known, as high school.

It was the first day of the final term of year twelve at Crescent High, more commonly know as Kres to the students that attend there. Victoria was going through her usual get-ready-for-school routine. The routine involved: curling her long black hair, applying her make-up so it was subtle but still apparent, and of course, doing that last minute homework you forgot to do over the school break, maths in this case.

When she was certain she was ready she slung her bag over her shoulder and got up from the wooden chair on which she was seated. She made her way down the large oak stairs, taking great care on the bottom one as it was weak and could easily break. The stairs looked quite out of place in the surburban house, but the Westwood's had insisted on keeping them.

She glanced at the clock hanging on one of the walls in the kitchen. The school bus would be there soon. She took her lunch money, which came to the grand total of three pounds and fifty pence, off the counter top and placed it carefully into the black pocket off her school bag. The sound of the horn alerted her to the presense of the bus.

"Luke, Loucie, the bus is here." She shouted. "Hurry up or we'll be late."

Almost immediatly after her warning, the sound of light footsteps running down the wooden stairs filled the house. The sound pause for a moment before resuming with a single thud as the person, from whom the noise had come, jumped over the weak link of the stair case.

A few seconds later the figure of a blonde haired girl appeared in the doorway. Her hair came all the way down to her waist. Her hair was perhaps her most prominent feature as it was unusual for a girl of her age, barely gone fifteen, to have hair of a such a length that moved with an admirable amount of elegance as she did.

She wore a light grey cardigan on top of a plain white blouse. A knee length grey skirt, black shoes, white socks and a tie made up of the colours white and grey, completed her outfit.

"Luke!" She shouted, noticing her brother had not bothered to acknowledge Victoria's warning.

Loucie was more of the hyped-up, living in the moment kind of girl whereas Luke was more of the quiet type who blast their music at full pelt in their room to drown out all the sounds of civilization.

As Luke came down the stairs, the sound of his footsteps almost exactly imitated those of Loucie's, although his were slower, sluggish, and deliberatly louder. He shoved past Loucie without saying a word. He wore a school uniform, sporting the same colours but in the male version. In one fluid motion he bent down, picked up his school bag, pulled it over his head until it rested comfortably on his shoulder, then began walking towards the front door. When he was a single step away from the door he slowly turned his head to face his siblings.

"Are we going or what?"

Victoria let out a small chuckle. Luke opened the door and walked through, followed by Loucie who was particularly bubbly. Victoria was but a few steps behind them as she took the keys off of the hook and locked the door on her way out, but not before saying goodbye to the family pet Bryan, Louice named him. Bryan was a grey Yorkshire Terrier. Bryan had grown particularly attached to Victoria, more than any other member of the Westood family.

Before getting in the bus Louice raised her hand and waved at her parents who were just getting into their cars to go to work. Elizabeth Westwood worked as a chiropractor at Ahmia Falls Infirmary whilst Ian worked as a police officer at AFPD. They both earned a reasonable amount, however still not enough to buy Victoria the car she'd always desired, not that she actually knows how to drive a car with more than two pedals and a steering wheel. Their parent could still manage to afford two separate cars however. Elizabeth's was a white Renualt Clio whereas Ian's was a black Honda Civic Sedan. Both cars were elegant and modern and blended in perfectly with the other vehicles on the estate.

All of the houses on the estate where built out of face brick and each house was three stories tall bar number 32 who had had their third floor removed as they never used it. The third floor was an open space unless it had been renovated like the Westwood's one had. The third floor was now Victoria bedroom and was made up of the main room, and ensuite bathroom and a walk-in-wardrobe. The wardrobe was filled with black and red dresses, and t-shirts, trouser, skirt etc. in one or both of the previous colours. Victoria's room was too made up of those two colours. She had a large canopy bed with red silk fabric draped over the top. The cover was too make of red silk whereas the pillows where black and made of the usual fabric. The rest of the furniture concluded of: a bedside table with all of the usual appliances, a chest of drawers on which the television stood, an elegant wooden deskon which rested a white laptop which looked rather out of place in a room of such sophistication and regality, her make-up was also on the desk along with a small mirror and the school books she had not needed to take with her, and in the cornor of the room stood a rather grand bookcase that towered over the rest of the room.

On the bus Loucie was seated at the front as she was amonst the youngest of the group. Luke sat by himself somewhere in the middle and Victoria sat on the back room with three of her best friends: Katie, Celeste, Diane and Ariana. Katie sported the same striking blonde hair as Loucie however hers was not as long. Celeste and Diane bothe had light brown hair but with different shades of brown highlights. Ariana probably stood out the most as her hair was as red as the blood that ran through her veins. The bus was particularly loud that day for it was the first time many of them had seen each other since the last term. Loucie's laughter was probably the loudest noise to be heard followed by Victoria's friends catching her up on all of the latest gossip. Luke had his earphones in listening to some form of loud music, probably to drown out the din his fellow classmates were making.

It seemed like an eternity had passed by the time the bus arrived outside the school gates. One by one the student made their descent down the metal steps and onto the cold stone floor. The bus sped away as soon as the last pair of feet touched the ground. A black sports car drove past and parked in one of three available empty parking spaces. As the engine stopped the driver side door swung open barely missing the car parked beside it. A girl around Victoria's age with brunette hair slowly stepped out, lifitng the sunglasses from her eys and resting them on her head. The passenger door too swung open barely hitting the brunnette girl this time. From this door stepped out a blonde girl who seemed to be obssesed with the colour white and a girl with hair perhaps the same red as Ariana's who seemed to wear alot of clothes to match the hue of her hair. It was obvious that the brunnette was the 'queen bee' whilst the other two where her 'wannabees'. These three demons carried the names Lana Cochman (Red), Regina Hook (Blonde) and Jenna Chamberlain (Brunnette). They walked over to Victoria and her friends, their heels of their platform's hitting the ground in perfect harmony.

"Look who it is." Jenna's may have looked like an angel but her voice was cold and twisted like the devils. "Depressed Celeste, Less Than Diane, Banana Ariana and Icky Vicky."

Victoria had a reputation for being the only person in the whole school to ever stand up to Jenna and her posse, otherwise known as the Devil's Daughters, or DD for short, and she wasn't going to ruin her reputation now.

"Ok, one, stop calling my friends names and two, it's Victoria, not Vicky not Tori, Vic-tor-ia. Find something to rhyme with that." And with that Victoria and her friends made their way into the school.

"Loser!" Regina shouted after them.

"That doesn't rhyme." Jenna almost shouted at her. "Idiot."

Victoria's first lesson of the day was Latin, a subject Victoria had insisted on taking with little retaltion from the Westwood's. She seemed to pick it up very quickly, which resulted in being top of the class. Unfortunatley the teacher she had was a bit on the strict side and allowed no room for error. Miss Finks, that was her name, insisted on keeping the old fashioned chalk and blackboard which resulted in a high pitched screeching everytime she wrote something on the board.

"Can anyone tell me what this means?" She glanced around the room to see that not a single hand was raised. "Miss Westwood."

Victoria glanced at the board to see but one short word. _Euge._ Miss Finks should've know that Victoria had seen this word enough during her Latin lessons to know what it meant.

"It means Well Done."

"Recte, recte."

The next half an hour passed by quite fast. It was but a few minutes to the bell when a loud commotion attracted the pupils attention. Miss Finks stood up and walked towards the door, poking her head round to see what all the fuss was about. All of sudden she dropped to the floor in what seemed like slow motion.

Before the student could see what had happened two men and one woman burst in wearing what looked like an army uniform, but in black rather than green. They each held some kind of electronic device in their hands, bar the woman who held some kind of wooden weapon.

The woman made sure everyone stayed in their seats as the man held the device's infront of them. Victoria found it starnge that after each student they would say 'human'. They reached her and the device was held infornt of her face. The man starting hitting it as hard as he could without breaking it.

"Stupid batteries." He almost screamed. "Right, get this lot in the hall with the others." He signalled to the woman who used her weapon to direct the students out of the room.

They were made to walk down the corridors in a single line. Many scared whispers and looks were exchanged between the students as they wondered who their captors were and what they wanted.

"What did you do to Miss Finks?" Victoria asked confidently, a trait that she could never seem to shake was never being afraid to stand up to people.

"We just sedated her, she'll be joining you soon." A slight chuckle slipped out of the womans lips.

As they walked through the art block, a corridor plastered with large windows on both sides, Victoria saw two familiar faces beckoning her to come to them, Elizabeth and Ian.

Victoria glanced at the woman who was the nearest captor to her and the one charged with the duty of keeping an eye on the back of the group. WHen she was sure she wasn't looking she ducked into the nearest alcove, a feature the school had wanted to keep. She waited for the line of students to pass by her and then sneaked out of the nearest door. She crouched down to meet their level so as to not be seen by anyone patrolling the corridors.

"What are you doing here? No scrap that, what the hell is going on?"

Ian was first to speak. "Those people they're called the Occisores."

"The killers, what you mean they're serial killers or something."

"Not particularly, they prefer the name slayers, and well they're here looking for something, someone even. You."

"Why would they be looking for me, beacuse i'm an Aries, because i'm a girl, why?"

Elizabeth chose this as her que to step in. "It's about your father, and his father, let's hust say they weren't exactly, normal for lack of a better word."

"What you mean they were mentally ill or something. Am I insane?"

"No, of course not no, your father he, he wasn't from around here."

"So he came from abroad, so what."

"Well yes he did come from abroad, he, he's what's know in his culture as, a Lamia."

"A vampire."

"Yes, but not just any vampire, he was the son of Count Dracula, which makes you the granddaughter of Count Dracula and the only known living heir to the Imperial Throne. That makes you extramely valuable to the slayers."

Victoria's face was frozen in an expression of shock. She had expected her parents to be from France or Spain or something, not Transylvania and she had certainly not expected them to be a completly different species.

"You're what's known as a 'ward'." Ian continued as Victoria began to move. "A Lamia under the protection of Anima's also known as breathers, humans. Your heritage makes you the second most powerful vampire in the world next to your father, that is why they want you, to destroy you."

"But, I, I, wha, I.." Victoria couldn't seem to make the words leave her lips, she once again resumed her state of shock as she processed the information she had just recieved. Her entire life had been changed in the space of ten long minutes. She knew who she was but at the same time she didn't.

She rose form her crouched down position and looked at her reflection in the window.

"Why can I still see myself?" She asked, still looking at the glass pane infront of her."

"Beacause you're blood mirror wouldn't have exepted you, it would have deemed you not ready for you didn't know enough about yourself. You can still eat garlic, go to the beach and lay in the sun. Until you're eighteenth birthday when you will face the mirror and fully transform."

Victoria stared at her reflection in the window. She used to see a confident, outspoken girl, but now all she saw, was a stranger.

TBC with Cataclysmic Lies: Part 2 - Which will be uploaded soon.

On the BloodLines official YouTube Channel you will find the voiceover for the next chapter along with other BloodLines videos.

Please review and tell me what you think.


	2. Cataclysmic Lies: Part 2

_Please review; I'd love to know what you think. _

_Disclaimer: In Chapter 1_

_I've had these ideas in my head for about a year now and edited them slightly when YD series 3 started. This chapter is a lot longer than the prior one and hopefully every chapter will be this length. The reason they are this long is because I see them as episodes of a TV show and a lot happens in one episode. There will be four stories, of that I am sure as I have each and every chapter mapped out both on paper and in my head._

_Sorry I haven't uploaded in a while; my internet has been going weird._

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No one is born with strength. You have to find it. But first you must find the will, to want to find it.

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The slayers, as they were now known, stood in a circle surrounding some kind of box with a red and a white button on the top. They treated it like a temple and only the obvious leader, obvious for he was the one giving not taking orders, was allowed to touch it. They kept taking short glances back at the students in the hall. Only the year twelve students were being kept in this room, the others were being taken to other classrooms in the school. The slayers had 'acquired' the keys to the hall and every slayer had one each. The room was locked and the windows had been replaced with tempered glass after the break-in three weeks ago, although why someone would want to rob a run-down school in a run-down town is a mystery. The hostages didn't know what to make of their captors; those who defied them or spoke out against them were forced to eat a strange white capsule that clearly tasted rather unpleasant, as proved by the expression that painted itself on the faces of those subjected to the punishment. If you had already consumed the capsule, the secondary punishment would be to have an incredibly bright light shone directly into your eyes causing temporary blindness and a severe stinging sensation. So far only three people had had the courage to stand up against their abductors, only one of them twice and all three were punished. Since then no one had said a word or moved an inch, too frightened as to what the consequences of their actions would be.

The three that had stood up were: Carlos Montclare, a Spanish exchange student who only stood up because he couldn't understand what they were asking him to do, Tiffany Goodbridge, the executive editor of the Cresent Mail who had only spoken in an unsuccessful attempt to get some information for her next editorial and as for the student who was punished twice, that was Hannah Beaufriar, the toughest year twelve bully who had formed an uneasy alliance with Jenna Chamberlain and her posse, who had remarkably managed to keep quiet throughout the whole affair, a miracle is the possible way how. However Jenna would probably sue the school afterwards for 'failing to react appropriately during a hostage situation', or something quite similar. The students had been lined up in a single line along the perimeter of the hall. All of the teachers were being held somewhere else so as to not cause any unnecessary difficulties.

The majority of the slayers in the room had been assembling what looked like a very old camera for the past hour whilst a man, the leader, never once moved away from the box that had fascinated so few of the students as most were trying to figure out a way to break out of the room in which they were now sure they were inexorably detained. The curtains had been torn down in order to prevent any unwanted benumbed visitors entering without their erudition. With it being summer the sun glared down on the world below with intensifying heat. The slayers had taken every precaution they could possibly think of, to ensure they could not be ambushed by a full-fledged constituent of the incarnate species of the lifeless. Their plan was coming together benevolently.

Meanwhile, the only two liberated delegates of the Westwood family had decided it would be safer to take Victoria home while they worked out what to do. Victoria was still adjusting to the shock of recent conversations. She found it was easier to just go along with what they said, but after this whole fiasco was over she would have alot of questions that she was determined to get exceedingly complete answers to. She sat on the sofa before being passed a large mug of cocoa topped with whipped cream and a generous amount of mini marshmallows; a small amount of steam was slowly finding its way from the top of the hot liquid, through the opening between the cream and the edge of the mug and out into the atmosphere. She grasped it firmly in her hands as if she could feel the warmth flowing out of her, freezing her from the inside out. She took a few sips and once she felt the warmth begin to return to her, she assiduously placed the mug on the floor, making sure it was as close the sofa as she could possibly get it so as to avoid a bothersome incident. The room was filled with an unsettling and awkward aura of taciturnity as all three inhabitants contemplated over recent events. The unexpected sound of Elizabeth's mobile phone vibrating directed everyone's attention to her, waiting for her to reveal the contents of the message she had just received; her eyes widened as she read it. She turned to face her husband, a look of pure trepidation disseminated over her once tranquil countenance. Her voice echoed as she spoke adding an slight amount of anxiety to the room. "It's from the council." Elizabeth, seeing the confused look on Victoria's face decided to elaborate. "The council were the ones who forced your father to put you into protection, they keep us updated on what goes on in the vampire world, just in case."

"You mean my father didn't wa..." Victoria began, before being cut off by Ian's tempestuous voice.

"What does it say?" He asked as Elizabeth stood up and made her way to the tv set.

"Cape." She answered, another piece of information that clearly confused the adolescent vampire as corroborated by her next question.

"Cape, what's cape?"

"It's the vampire equivalent to BBC 1." Elizabeth informed her as she scanned through the channels.

"And they called it 'Cape'." She said with a look of peculiar incredulity on her face.

"Well vampires aren't exactly the most imaginative species on the planet." She countered as she finally found the channel she was looking for, 'Cape TV'.

"Well from what you've told me we were pretty imaginative when coming up with our billion weaknesses." She reached down and brought the mug to her lips, preparing to take another sip.

"Make that a billion and one."

The room once again filled with silence as their eyes were fixed on the screen in front of them.

_"Hello and welcome to CTvN, I'm Louise Riley. If you're just joining us it appears we have a hostage situation, the location of which is unspecified. We are receiving a live broadcast from the scene."_

_The newsreader sat awkwardly without saying a word as she waited for the footage to load on the screen behind her. It was another few seconds before it loaded. When it did it showed what Victoria could tell was live footage by the quality of the video. At first there were only two slayers on the screen, Victoria recognized one, the woman who had been holding what Victoria know knew to have been stake whilst the others scanned the students. Her brown hair was a little more untidy then it was when Victoria was there. Victoria didn't recognize the other woman though she did look a lot like the other one, perhaps they were sisters she thought. However the main focus switched from the female slayers to the tall, muscular slayer who had made a rather dramatic debut. None of the slayers wore masks so Victoria assumed they wanted the vampires to know who they were. Elizabeth and Ian seemed to recognize the male slayers as they both tensed up almost simultaneously. The man was the only one to speak, his voice was cold as ice with not a glint of emotion in his eyes; an unsettling yet barely present sneer formed across his face as he spoke._

_"We have The Queen." The Queen was another of Victoria's many names, this one however was premature as she wouldn't officially be 'The Queen of the Dead' until her coronation which could only occur once she had completely changed. The slayers obviously didn't know what she looked like but had somehow received information that she was attending that school.; so technically they didn't have the Queen as she was sat at home with a mug of cocoa watching him on CTvN. "The price for her life is this: we want the location of every blood mirror in the world, we will smash each one and those of you young enough to become mortal ,the fledglings shall, those who aren't, well in your world I guess it's a small price to pay to save any progeny of the infamous Count Dracula. You have five hours, after that, we'll blow this wretched school to oblivion." The sneer on his face became more prominent as he spoke the last seven words._

Victoria froze as his threat bounced from wall to wall in her mind. She wondered whether she really so eminent that almost every vampire in the world would die for her. However if they knew she wasn't even in the school, the slayers ultimatum would not be met, and everyone in the school would die, including Luke and Loucie. Victoria rose from her seat after placing the now hollow demitasse on the ground. She turned towards the door and placed her hand on the handle before turning to face the two adults who seemed just as bemused if a bit more restrained.

"I can't do this." Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but Victoria continued before she could. "Today you told me my parents were different, a different species and by extension me; and now my friends, Luke and Loucie, everyone in that school is going to die, and it's all my fault." She pressed on the handle and the door slowly opened. Victoria's next sentence was filled with power, emotion and true, utter consternation. "You can't just expect me, to be able to save them." Victoria almost ran up the stairs and into her room to avoid the corollaries of her assertion.

Victoria sat on her bed her knees pressed against her chest, her arms cradling her legs as if they were a newborn baby. The glistening paths of the journeys of fallen tears evident on her face. The lake of tears, which she had supplied, had grown full, not a tear had fallen within the last few minutes. She sat there thinking, thinking of all the possible choices she had, let everyone die, give herself up. A taunting voice inside her head kept telling her to run away and forget everything, to start over. She knew she would have to reach a decision; she just didn't know which one she should choose; which was right, and which was wrong.

Ian and Elizabeth had sat silently as the tears of their once brave 'child' echoed in air. Both were too thinking of their choices. So far they had only thought of the same one's Victoria had. Suddenly an idea popped into Ian's head, an idea that could, would have both negative and positive outcomes. He waited for a moment as he wondered whether or not he should say what he was thinking. He was unsure as to the reaction it would receive; although he was pleasantly surprised as Elizabeth agreed with him.

"We have to take her to the council."

Victoria was unwilling forced into the back of the car . What was supposed to be an almost military operation become nothing more than a comedy sketch as Ian struggled to turn the key in the ignition. After a while he gave up and looked to his wife. Victoria saw this as the perfect moment to point out the obvious.

"Wrong car key." She mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear and just coherent enough for him to understand. That was the problem with Ian and Elizabeth's car keys, they both looked exactly the same. Ian shot out of the car and ran inside to find the other set of keys. Victoria seized this opportunity to find out where she was going. "So what's with the whole Fort Knox removal service."

"We're taking you to see the council." Ian's suggestion may have been accepted by Elizabeth but it was certainly not by Victoria.

"What. The same council whose fault this technically is. No way." She had come to that conclusion in her mind, as if the council had not forced her father to abandon her she would be with him and this whole thing would never have happened. If only she knew how wrong she was.

After what seemed like perpetuity, but was only an hour, of driving through country lanes and narrow roads the Westwood couple with Victoria in tow arrived at a rather grandiose castle situated upon an exceedingly high tor. The castle was grey and towering with a total of thirteen turrets, as in the vampire culture thirteen is auspicious whereas in the Anima culture or human culture it is considered to be an omen of ominous events, the castle was surrounded by resplendent if somewhat melancholy gardens, one of which housed an extremely ornate and baroque fountain that stood fifteen feet of the ground with a poem in Latin script written on each layer in the most elaborate calligraphy. The poem read as follows:

_Blood long bled from land and sea - Multo sanguine duci terra marique_

_They know not near how cruel we be - Latet eos iuxta quam crudelis sit_

_For as the walking dead do thrive - Name sicut mortui ambulare utilis_

_Tombs will fill with those alive Vivum apud illos implebit monumentis_

Victoria shuddered as she read, another wave of fear passed through her as she began to fear meeting the council even further. She was guided up the long meandering cobblestoned path that led up past the fountain and the French Renaissance and the Parterre garden until it stopped at the anterior ingress, similar to the front door of an old church. It towered over the three visitors like the Eiffel Tower and the Great Pyramid of Giza. Elizabeth raised her hand and clutched the door knocker which was circular and inscribed with but three words _pulso si audes _(if you dare knock). She tightened her grip on the knocker, pulling it towards her and then pushing it back against the hard wooden door. She did this numerous times. When she heard the sound of footsteps running towards the door she release the knocker from her hold and placed her hand back by her side. She shared an anxious look with her husband before turning to Victoria and offering her a reassuring half smile which Victoria returned in reply. Victoria continuously looked around her at the gardens that surrounded the castle, it still confused her why they would put so much effort into creating and maintaining them when they couldn't even see them during the day let alone enjoy there grandeur. She was of course reassured that the Council wasn't all that bad; the fountain was filled with water.

The intricate design carved into the fountainhead caught Victoria's eye. She recognized it from somewhere but she couldn't recall where, at first she though it was perhaps her overactive imagination playing tricks on her but she concluded not, but before she could ask a sudden screeching noise directed her attention from the fountain to the door in front of her that was slowly being pulled open. A black haired woman with lips red as blood peered round. She obviously couldn't come outside as the sun was still up but she came as far forward as she could to study her future leader. The dress she wore was long and flowing and red in shade. Her voice wasn't as cold Victoria had expected it to be, but welcoming as she invited them in.

"Welcome, to Clarus Concordia."

Victoria was led down a dimly lit corridor. The Westwoods had been told to take a walk in the grounds as their hominoid aroma would tempt the council. The air was stagnant as they walked; Victoria stopped every now and then to glimpse a few of the portraits hanging on the wall. The discomfiture was making Victoria anxious. She lightly ran her hand along the opulent frames. Precipitously her hand fell to her side as she discerned an emblem ornamented into a lofty, ligneous, lavish doorway. She's seen this symbol before, on the fountain. It was superlative. The symbol consisted of a shield in which lay a large D written in an archaic style of calligraphy, above which was a vaguely sanguine tinted bat. The shield was ornamented with crimson foliage. A diadem lay at the peak of the insignia. She evoked it from somewhere, she just couldn't recall where. She decided it was time for answers.

She took a step closer to the door, her hand hovering a fraction from the motif. In an instant it was by her side again as a blur forced it down. Victoria was somewhat bemused as the woman she now knew to be Viay Thorne materialized in front of her. Viay Thorne was the interim apex or acting head of the Council. At first glance you wouldn't know she was a vampire. Neither her ebony dusk hair nor her overly roseate lips screamed vampire. Nevertheless this wasn't the time for hostilities or blandishment; it was the time for resolutions.

"You're not authorized to go in there." Viay said after a few moments of unnerving silence.

Victoria knew she wasn't going to divulge any more information than that so she changed the subject slightly. "I've seen that symbol before. Not just on the door and on the fountain, somewhere else; I just can't remember where."

"You were just a baby then." Viay spoke softly, she knew she was touching on an elusive nonage. "Victoria, this was your home; you were born here.

Victoria's head felt like it was going to burst with all of the new information pouring into it. She could feel the tears longing to be released. Tears of regret. Tears of uncertainty. Tears of qualm. She no longer knew who she was.

"I had this big idea of life." She began, barely holding back the tears stinging her eyes. She slowly began walking towards the window at the end of the corridor. "Get a good job, meet a nice guy, get married and have kids. To live a peaceful and serene life." She slowly turned to face Viay the tears burning in her eyes. "That's never going to happen is it?" Viay's contrite face told her all she needed to know.

They walked for a while, down many corridors, in complete silence. The peace was broken as they stopped outside a door less impressive that the one with the emblem but exquisite nonetheless. Viay stopped and turned to face the young fledgling, searching for hesitation in her eyes, a pointless action. She decided to ask her instead.

"You ready?" Viay's voice held an encouraging echo.

"Yeah." Victoria lied. She was terrified, timorous, and tense to name a few of the emotions hurtling around in her head.

Viay entered timidly followed by Victoria. Ten pairs of repulsed eyes glared at her. She shifted slightly under their close scrutiny. The first to speak was a woman who looked as if she as in her 40's but Victoria guessed she was probably nearer four hundred. The woman's hair could easily be mistaken for black in the dim light but was in actuality a rather dark shade of brown. Her eyes were also brown as were the clothes she wore, although there were elements of black mixed in. Victoria guessed this was Aquila Akava. She guessed the reason Aquila liked the colour brown so much was because of her name, Aquila - the Eagle. Viay had warned her about Lady Akava. Aquila craved Viay's position above all else and would do whatever it took to get it. Of course no one would commit treason for a mere title, well no one with nous.

"Why have you brought this inferior fledgling here?" She spat out the word 'inferior' and 'fledgling'. Aquila reminded Victoria of Jenna Chamberlain except Aquila really was a descendant of the Devil.

"Aquila, don't be discourteous." A slightly sly smile formed across her face. "She has a name."

Aquila took a step forward with an air of superiority. Obviously she thought she was the noblest, richest and preeminent person in the room. "And what might that be neophyte?" She asked with an unhidden tone of antipathy.

Victoria looked to Viay for both permission to speak and for encouragement. She slowly stepped forward until she was more or less a metre from Aquila.

"Speak child." Aquila almost shouted at her as Victoria's hesitance began to infuriate her.

Victoria flinched slightly at Aquila's tone before straightening herself out so she didn't look as unkempt, not that it made much difference.

"Victoria." She said avoiding direct eye contact with any member of the council, especially Aquila. Victoria gasped as every vampire in the room bar Viay was bowing to her. After a few momenta of discomforting silence they slowly rose all with shocked and apologetic faces. Aquila's was more apologetic than any other though.

"My Lady, please accept my most profound apology." Viay sniggered quietly at Aquila's humiliation.

"I accept." Victoria said attempting to look as strong as possible.

A black haired woman, around Victoria's age perhaps a little younger, rushed over to Victoria, bowing as she neared her. "Novia Callisto, My Lady, of Sălaj. Please forgive my mother she's a little... outspoken.

It had been twenty minutes since Victoria's big entrance. Since then no one had dared to talk to her apart from Novia and Viay. One woman kept giving her a cold stare. Victoria now knew this vampire to be Regula Villareal of Harghita; she was after Victoria's position as by right her family were next in line to the throne, something to do with an ancient promise.

Victoria rose from her seat at the head of the table, coughing slightly to attract everyone's attention, not that everyone wasn't staring at her already. She felt slightly tense as all pairs of eyes fell upon her, well those that weren't already looking at her. However she knew she had to stay strong, for Luke and Loucie's sake.

"I'm sure you all saw the news report today." Numerous nods from around the table made her relax slightly as now she didn't have to explain it to them. "Well that's my school and my friends are in there. I know you probably don't care but... they mean a lot to me. I have to help them."

No one seemed to be insulted at being accused of not caring, probably because it was the truth. One vampire, a grey haired man at the end of the table, had the courage to speak.

"Nyx, she could help." Victoria didn't know who Nyx was but everyone else seemed to.

Viay rose and eyed each vampire in the room. "All in favor of taking Victoria to Nyx."

Every hand in the room rose, although one was sluggish and slightly forced.

Victoria was led down a number of corridors and down a twisting stairwell until she came to a grey stone door. Viay pushed gently on the door and it easily swung open. Victoria was almost forced inside as her feet seemed to stick to the ground like bricks to cement. She jumped as the loud bang of the door slamming shut pounded against her ears.

"Hello." She said, taking a few steps into the room. It was dark and dim. The only light was from a small window at the very top of one of the walls. The room was almost fully submerged under the ground. "Nyx." This time she got a reply, of sorts.

A grey haired woman hobbled out from the shadows. She looked as if she had just climbed out of a horror movie. Her hair was straw-like and chaotic. Her face was pale yet she was not a vampire, of that Victoria was sure. She didn't know how, she just... knew. She wore a grey dress, almost like a tunic, that came all the way down to her ankles. The barefoot woman stopped just a few metres from Victoria, her eyes narrowing as she studied her visitor. Her eyes softened in places yet hardened in other as she realized who Victoria was. She however, made no attempt to compose herself in front of her future leader. Although as she wasn't a vampire, Victoria would never really be her Queen.

Her hands shook by her sides, not out of fear but obsolescence. Victoria silently prayed she would never become that enervated and insipid. Her voice was raspy and cracked as she spoke, though it did hold an air of erudition, acumen and sagacity.

"Come closer, Imperial One. Step into the light."

Victoria obeyed and slowly walked directly into the sun beam. Thankfully it wasn't too bright so she didn't have to squint too much. Nyx once again studied Victoria, this time focusing on her face more than anything else.

"Splendor hath blessed you, where it has not I." Victoria smiled slightly at the compliment, but the smile was still infected with confusion and trepidation. "For what intent have you come to catechize such a fragile necromancer for?" Her voice grew louder with each word as she straightened herself out slightly. "Articulate in eloquent tongue or comprehend, I be about to not." She said taking great care to enunciate.

Due to having three Latin lessons a week, Victoria was no stranger to long words or eloquent speaking.

"The lives of my friends are endangered by dint of barrage; prospectively provoked by a man I now know to be an antagonist of my kind. Owing to the inducing credo of the congress, I have come to you for succour. As scion of the selected individual, you be going to incline to no less than cogitate my appeal. If you have but a trace of empathy or fidelity in you, you shall ensure it be contented. I mean not to coerce or compel your hand; thus far I fear I have. I mean no more that to solicit your aid in this most nefarious hour of requisite solidarity. My ilk yearns for utmost vehement pugnacity whilst my integrity and my morality beseech me to persist in an unruffled disposition so as to be competent to ruminate unambiguously, with a forbearing and lenient unsharpened assegai and commonsensical noose, to humanly harm and waspishly wound with veiled preternaturalism, buried in a sepulchre of mutable fealty."

Victoria trailed off as Nyx began to circle her. It wasn't like a vulture stalking their prey, but a child observing a miracle. Victoria twisted her head around to make sure she always knew where Nyx was, she didn't want any unexpected surprises.

"You be averse to sun, yet your casing be not pallid. You be incapable of overpassing unbroken tributary, yet a conduit of acreage grants you transit." By this point it was clear Nyx was not a vampire. She seemed to be mesmerized by the whole idea of vampires. "You be creation of abhorrent conflagration, yet there be prospective virtue along your track."

Nyx stopped directly in front of Victoria, her eyes closing tightly shut for a brief moment before opening, an ardent shade of orange. Her voice was deep and evocative as she spoke.

"Your echo stalks you like the lunar core the firmament. A constant companion for one is no more unfeigned than extant shorn of the cohort." Her eyes once again closed and her voice returned to normal. Victoria was a little shaken out how easily a person could change from harmless to dangerous.

"You be that of fire fiend in cadaver and ancestry, hitherto your heart be unencumbered by the hazes that overshadow so many souls. For a desecrated inanimate your quintessence be hallowed." Victoria understood what she was saying. She was saying that for a being of evil ancestry, she was not evil.

"Will you help me?" Victoria asked the pleading clear in her voice. Nyx half ignored her question.

"You seek the aptitude to preclude the obliteration rather than to perpetrate the iniquitous turpitude, dissimilar to the habitual determinations of the majority of your genus. You request the prerogative powers to reconcile and to relieve in preference than to hamper and to harm."

Nyx stepped closer, penetrating Victoria's personal bubble. "I perceive a buoyant benevolence in your psyche's pane that makes the candour and verity of your avowal elucidate. You desire me to bequest you not imperishability or the impediments that be an adjunct to such an onus, but for a taste of the power you shall one day brandish and ply." Nyx stepped back allowing Victoria space to breathe and take in all she just said. She raised her arms until they were at the same level as her waist. A howling wind began to rage outside, a cold draught creeping into the room. Her voice held an almost chanting tone as she spoke.

"As custodian of the ten rudiments: earth, inferno, squall, aquatic fluids, dynamism, actuality, sentiment, altercation, alteration and dialect, on the authority of Nyx Aureum, heathen deity of the prior rudiments, your entreaty... shall be satisfied."

Victoria felt a weight lift as she realised she wasn't alone. If she needed help, all she had to do was ask. "Thank you." She was truly grateful for the help Nyx was offering; she needed it.

Nyx lowered her arms and her eyes once again turned a shade of orange yet her voice only slightly changed. "I anticipate our next meeting when a malicious prognostication means to be evident, an oracular ordained and predestined for solely you to hearken. Afore that eon, I shall divulge just this: your superiority be secret amid your kinfolk; just the board of vagueness to entrust, furthermore myself. There is perfidy hither and thither and yon. Be sure and certain about a collaborator or amalgamation's loyalty afore disclosing your innermost aspirations unreservedly."

Nyx stepped back into the shadows, probably to cast some form of spell. Victoria now knew what she was. A witch. Nyx's powers frightened Victoria; she was scared that Nyx's sudden change was the result of a prophecy of sorts, and not a very good one.

"Abscond as I ensure the implacable consonance is jointly accorded by the pellucid pixie and the opaque occultist who shall meld to concoct the leaden intermediate. With your mortals, forsake this profane anathematized citadel."

And with that Victoria left.

The car journey back to the school was silent as not one sound was heard. All Victoria could think off was what Nyx had said about perfidy and echoes. She didn't entirely understand but she feared what it meant. Elizabeth and Ian kept taking short glances at Victoria to make sure she was ok.

Victoria felt a sudden wave of sickness pass through her. Her head felt as if it was going to explode, her eyes felt like they were of fire. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. She tried to clutch her head with her hand but found it wouldn't move. Fear filled her as she endeavoured to extirpate the endless agony. She suddenly felt drowsy as the pain subsided. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she collapsed, lying across the back seat of the car.

The car abruptly ground to a halt, jolting Victoria awake. She felt different; she felt prepared. She swiftly sat up taking in her new surroundings. They car was parked just outside the school. Victoria clicked her fingers and the car door swung open. A smile crossed her face at her display of power. She climbed out and walked straight past Elizabeth and Ian who both had confused expressions written on their faces. She stormed into the school making her way towards the hall; surprisingly not one slayer patrolled the halls on the way there. She saw the double doors, the entrance to the hall. She inhaled deeply, a process that seemed to amaze her more and more every time she did it for she knew in less than a year she would no longer breathe. She closed her eyes focusing her mind on the door in front of her. After a few moments it creaked open, not the best dramatic entrance. She immediately clicked her fingers and everyone except the slayers froze, she didn't want an audience that wouldn't understand what she was about to do. She also didn't want to deal with a whole group of slayers at once; she wasn't experienced enough or powerful enough. The power she held now was only a fraction of her future power but it seemed like a lot. She could feel it boiling in her veins as she used them. The power she would one day brandish and ply as Nyx had said. She raised her hand aiming it at the huddle of slayers by the camera and in a flash they disappeared. Victoria didn't know where she had sent them, and she didn't really care.

Richard bon Duverac was the only unfrozen person remaining in the room. She wanted to deal with him personally.

"My Lady." He greeted a taunting sneer on his face as he reached for his stake.

Victoria saw this and extended her arm towards it, causing it to set ablaze. Richard dropped it in an instant. However he managed to remain calm as he stepped closer to his prey.

"There's no need for violence My Lady." The phrase 'My Lady' was beginning to unnerve Victoria. "We haven't introduced ourselves properly yet. I'm Richard bon Duverac." He held out his hand for her to shake even though he was at least three arms lengths away from her. Victoria stepped backwards at his gesture, trying to distance herself as much as possible from him. Richard noticed this and his arms fell back to his side.

"I know who you are, what you've done. How many of my kind have you slaughtered?" She knew the answer would only infuriate her more. From the stories she'd been told her father signed a treaty with the slayers stopping all hostile action towards each other. Obviously these slayers preferred their prey vulnerable.

"Liberated." He corrected almost instantly. That was the final straw for Victoria. The fuse had been lit and it was about to incite.

She sped behind him. She didn't know how she had done it; she seemed to be acting on instinct. She grabbed his arm holding it roughly behind his back. He grunted in pain as which only made her grip tighten. She slammed him into the nearest wall not once letting go of his arm. She leaned forward until he could feel her breath against his ear. He was confused; she was using her powers yet she was breathing and her breath was warm.

"Slaughtered." She said, the anger and sorrow clear in her voice.

She pulled him back by his arm and threw him into the parallel wall, this time releasing his arm. He groaned as hit the wall with more force than an ordinary vampire would have thrown him with. He slid down the wall, the pain flooding him as he used his arms to push himself up. He slumped back against the wall with a cry of hurt as he realized what she had done. She had held his arm so tight it had broken.

Victoria walked towards, a merciless look on her face. She crouched down until her head was level with his, barely restrained anger in her eyes. She raised her hand. He though she was going to kill him.

It surprised him as he suddenly ended up in the middle of a forest, somewhere. She hadn't killed him; she'd clicked her fingers and sent him somewhere else.

"Coward!" He screamed to the heavens. "Coward! Ow!" He cried in pain as he moved his arm a fraction too much.

Victoria lay in bed. She'd saved her friends, saved Luke and Loucie. Unfortunately she had made an enemy. A more dangerous enemy than she could possibly imagine. And she had done the one thing she shouldn't have.

She'd shown him the unfeeling vampire that repute told him she was.

TBC

Please review, I'd love to know what you think. The next chapter will be uploaded soon, hopefully. It will be called Sweet Dark Angel and 'hint hint' there will be a romance blossoming soon.

Review


	3. Sweet, Dark Angel

_Sorry, I know I haven't uploaded in a long time; my house is being renovated so my internet has been switched off for a while. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. I apologize for the length of the poems in it, once I start writing a poem it's very hard to stop._

_Disclaimer: In Chapter 1_

_Thanks for the reviews, sorry for the wait, it takes ages to write these because I like to make them as detailed as possible and I want to do my imagination justice. It's not as long as the previous chapter but it's prettylong considering my written prompt was about five lines long._

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I am the self-proclaimed leader of myself, and every leader, needs rules. One of mine is to stay away from the tall, dark and handsome types. But every rule is made, to be broken, that one in particular.

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A week had passed since the 'Physco Protest' as the students had now dubbed it. The teachers and the school board were still trying to find out what had happened. Miss Finks was still off school as were many distraught pupils. Some pupils' parents did however sue the school, Mr and Mrs Chamberlain being two of them. Overall the school was forced to pay three thousand pound sterling in compensation, something the governor of the board, Mr Ryan Rocyrful, was exceedingly irritated at. Contrariwise, the gossip queens were on overtime as they endeavoured to construct as many different anecdotes as they feasibly could. Some of these included: unrest at the nearby sanatorium which led to a mass breakout of patients, remonstration against the English potentates and perhaps the strangest of all, extra-terrestrial incursion. What's even stranger is that people believed them.

It was national poetry day and, for the first time in fifteen years, the school decided to allocate a different category to each year group. The Year 7's had it easy with 'Seasons', the Year 8's had 'Animals', the Year 9's had 'Family', the Year 10's had 'Incantations', the Year 11's had 'Hunting' and the Sixth Former's had 'Conflict'. The winning Year 7, 8 and 9 poems were read out throughout periods one and two. The winning Year 10, 11, and Sixth Form poems were going to be read out after first break during period three. This was because there were three winners for each year group bar 10, 11 and 6th Form where there was only one individual victor.

It was a very grim day; the sun veiled itself coyly behind the clouds. Droplets of liquid began to fall and Victoria knew it was about to cascade rain. Katie noticed this too and signalled for the five of them to go back inside, break was practically over anyway. Diane and Celeste spent most of the remainder of break talking about what they were going to do at Diane's house that night whilst Victoria just stared into space. Ariana noticed this and became concerned about her friend.

"Victoria, are you ok?" She asked a look of pure worry of her face.

"Yeah I'm fine, just thinking." She faked as she was drawn out of her thoughts. She still couldn't quite get her head around the events of the past week. She stayed primarily in her room at 'home' only going downstairs when it was absolutely necessary and she refrained from communicating with any constituent of the Westwood family. Generally, home life was uneasy.

The rain began to pour heavier and heavier, thankfully, everyone was inside as the bell to signal the start of third period had just sounded. The curtains in the hall had been replaced since the 'incident'. The room was whining at the noise as the students shifted tensely in their seats. The racket died down as a tall blonde woman strode toward the microphone in the center-front of the stage. This woman was Evelyn Falcate-Hooper, headmistress at Crescent High. She wore a plain green halter neck along with a white knee-length skirt and white high heels that made a rhythmic 'click' as she walked. When she reached the microphone she coughed slightly preparing for her 'speech'. Instantaneously all eyes in the room were drawn to her as she began to speak. Her voice was kind and convivial if somewhat shrill.

"All of your poems were great, of course we did have to choose one favourite from each year group so… for Year 10 'Incantations' we have chosen…"

All of the Year 10's raised slightly in their chairs waiting for the answer. 'People take poetry way too seriously' Luke though. Luke was sat in the corner of the room with the rest of the Year 11's.

Mrs Falcate-Hooper removed a piece of paper from a brown envelope and raised it until it was perfectly in line with her eyes. She brought it down unhurriedly and announced the winner. "Devil's Desire by Mia Goddard."

A wave of congratulations swept across the room as Mia walked forward to read out her poem. Mia was a simple girl with brown short hair and a face an angel would envy. Evelyn stepped aside to allow Mia to take her place in front of the microphone. Mia's lips scarcely met the height of the microphone as she spoke:

"_Round the cauldron, cold as ice,_

_Requirements that are far from nice._

_Wing of bat, toxin of frog,_

_Though first of all go tusks of hog._

_Ink from the colossal squid,_

_Vital if you wish to rid,_

_The human race of all that's good,_

_Dishonesty, now understood._

_The crimson velvet lies you hide,_

_Will make a most beloved prize._

_Tortured screams of souls so anguished,_

_Humanity shall soon be languished._

_Hurt and woe and pain not mild,_

_Trepidation of a child._

_Death so near and life so far,_

_The dying lifeblood of a star._

_Superstitions filled with fear,_

_The virtue of a mermaid's tear._

_Locket torn from dead man's chest,_

_No soul will ever be at rest._

_Calligraphy of broken hand,_

_Lock of hair pulled strand by strand._

_Lion's roar and scorpion's sting,_

_The pain and terror they both bring._

_Love is lost whilst hate is found,_

_Upon this most unholy ground._

_Blue so grey and mists so thick,_

_Raging war on realm of brick._

_Confrontations left unplanned,_

_Close under the upper hand._

_Philosophies, why do we hate?_

_Life's no fun beneath stone plate._

_Loss that fills sepulchre deep,_

_Sounds of wails and widows weep._

_Decaying carcass of a King,_

_And his blood-stained Queen's gilt ring._

_Fair is taint and taint is fair,_

_Poison from the Earth's own air._

_The headless horseman's pate once lost,_

_Telstar's fading enclosed in frost._

_Now the hex is done, be gone,_

_Wrong is righteous, righteous wronged?_

_Spirits, Demons, the corporeal slayed,_

_Souls that be in crimson shade._

_Their retribution, drawing near,_

_They don't know, so they don't fear._

_Slay all you find, do not submit,_

_Exire et malum serpit."_

The sound of applause and cheering filled the air as Mia made her departure from the stage and returned to her seat. Victoria understood the poem undoubtedly. A malevolent creature was scheming to annihilate every mortal soul on the Earth by raising the dead. A creature she dreaded she would come to be. Mrs Falcate-Hooper resumed her position in front of the microphone to declare the subsequent victor.

"Well done Mia that was a fantastic poem. Next we have Year 11 'Hunting'. I can reveal that the winning poem is" This time she pulled out a silver envelope and read from the paper enclosed inside. "The Forlorn Delphinidae by Lorna Chamberlain."

A fair-haired girl the same age as Luke strode towards the stage shadowed by applause. Lorna Chamberlain was Jenna's little sister. The family resemblance was clear to see as they looked very analogous bar the hair for Lorna's was blonde and shoulder-length. She took up the same position Mia had and began to read her poem, her voice swimming through the auricles of the spectators as if were a serene ocean on brisk summer dawn:

"_The silhouette of vessel form sailed softly and gently overhead _

_the exalted tursiop beneath whitecap placid and pacified._

_Consign Sol to the heavens furthermore Luna the sable inverse._

_Eclipsed and reposed be the dearth of ineffable, profligate err_

_till anodyne epoch be benighted_

_Hitherto this stage all stood tranquil, still in immobile amity._

_Alas this sanctuary of contented peace was soon to adjourn._

_The reveille thundered and disarray arose as webs were cast down._

_Noises so nefarious and voices so vociferous are sure._

_The elegant creature forsakes the din._

_Shadowed by cord cages; stalked till the evanescence of timeless twilight._

_The nets neared the vulnerable epitome of humanity._

_Imprisoned in a foreign realm, bemused and timorous and feeble;_

_praying to obviate the abysmal fortune set to befall them._

_Naive and inchoate be the young calf._

Victoria could tell why Lorna had won; she felt as if she was the Dolphin imprisoned in an outlandish abode within her own memorable realm. Hounded by behemoths that don't appreciate that just for the reason that their physiology is dissimilar to theirs, doesn't entail that they don't have sympathies, or don't become frightened and feel forlorn just the same as humans, because everything feels – even the dead.

_Like the vacant dusk her tribulation is unobstructed and staunch._

_An immorality accompanied with cries of lamentation;_

_an infeasible sin that screams for contentment and calls for disdain._

_Triumph of malicious men stands within perditions choleric grasp._

_Perpetual loss has come to collect._

_Distant from her family; no pod to unshackle her existence,_

_A briny pale nymph she perceives, a seraph who has risen to help her_

_to evade her pursuers and plunge back into perfect optimism._

_Pure conviction floods her veins and the urge to be fortifies her soul,_

_To freedom she does swim."_

An even louder wave of applause followed as soon as she finished reading her poem. Jenna shot her sister a proud look before resuming her typical superior expression. Lorna sat down again, shifting slightly at the penetrating glares from a few Year 11s.

"Now for the climax we have the Sixth Form winner. The category was 'Conflict' and we believe that every poem submitted was literary brilliance in its own right. So without further ado the winner poem is…" This time she held a gold envelope.

"If War Is a Game by Victoria Westwood"

All heads spun to face Victoria as she sheepishly stood up and made her way toward the microphone. Jenna's once calm countenance took on an air of overt cynicism. Victoria stood directly behind the metal microphone shifting timidly as icy stares shot through her.

Her gaze suddenly fell on a man, about her age, stood at the back of the hall. She'd never seen him before so assumed he was new to the school. His hair was black and tidily arranged as if he were an entrepreneur on the way to a conference. She knew he was in Sixth Form as he wasn't wearing the traditional grey/white school uniform but a leather jacket on top of an unadorned white shirt with dark jeans and black trainers. There was something in his eyes however that Victoria couldn't quite put her finger on. It was as if, deep down, he was a fable clouded by facts, archaism cloaked in advancement, sanctity concealed by sin. Victoria tore her eyes away from him and began to read her poem:

"_Accursed be he that first designed war,_

_For war is just dread shrouded in mists of valour._

_A sickness that plagues the world tenfold,_

_And takes with blast, the heroic and valiant._

_If war is a game, select a corrupt station._

_War is a battle, battled by men,_

_Men who murder to tell us that murder is wrong._

_Only the late see the end of war,_

_Yet war would discontinue if they could arise._

_If war is game, the rubrics have been broken._

_When a man goes as far as he can,_

_Only then does he see how far he could have gone._

_Truth, the first fatality of war,_

_Benighted by lies, told from their leaders mouths._

_If war is a game, who rolls demise's dark dice._

_War's to bring peace but peace it loses._

_It is not an improver but a worsening._

_You are primal if you can recall,_

_When 'igniting the world' was just an idiom._

_If war is a game, it is a game grief will win._

_War waits for no one, war feels nothing._

_War cackles at fallen blood and screeches at peace._

_War makes the devil chortle also._

_War is a foolish fight that not a soul can win._

_If war is a game, it's not ever archaic._

_If war is game, you must perish to prevail._

_But war is not a game, nevertheless we play."_

The cluster erupted into a vented ovation, some constituents rising from their seats. Diane, Katie, Celeste and Katie were the most vehement. Others who rose from their seats were Elena Cosmine, Amalia Ionele and Adele Lavinia - the indigenous hearsay architects. No doubt they'll start some ordure manner of detrimental, prestige eradicating blather – similarly branded as gossip.

Victoria nodded marginally as if mutely airing her appreciations and gratitude. Victoria habitually wasn't the variety of individual to grow anxious but then again after the occurrences of the past week she supposed she earned the sanction to be permitted some sensation of timidity.

She still hadn't entirely come to grips with what had transpired. She accepted it, but she didn't wholly comprehend it. Her head constantly seemed to feel like it was on the threshold of paroxysm each and every time she contemplated about it excessively, so she decided it was almost certainly a good idea to go with the flow lest she become a mobile tragedy.

As she leisurely made her descent the set of steps at the left side of the stage she spotted something, or to be more precise she didn't. The gentleman that had so rapidly obtained her awareness had disappeared.

The bell for lunch resonated and the students piled out of the hall in a style close to that of a herd of stampeding bulls. Victoria's friends, being friends, waited for her afore departing – that or they just didn't want to get embroiled in the multitude of people also on their way to the refectory.

The canteen was divided into two sectors. The only entity partitioning the two was a firm wall with a solitary bowed arch positioned practically perfectly in the centre. The walls were all painted in a fairly dreary shade of champagne cream wheareas the floor was tiled with lustrous, khaki, inch-long tiles with silvery hemispherical emblems inlaid into arbitrary doors and the archway were both khaki coloured as were the holes through which the waitron distributed the victuals - additionally renowned as mawkish, nauseating gruel. The bill of fare at school was as consistent as cascades in April.

_Monday: Jacket Potato or Sandwich_

_Tuesday: Spaghetti Bolognese or Sandwich_

_Wednesday: Pizza or Sandwich_

_Thursday: Chicken/Turkey or Sandwich_

_Friday: Shrimp Scampi or Sandwich_

The students stifled a gag at the sight of the food. It was enough to repel the ferocious conflagrations of the abyss. Today was a Wednesday so pizza was the designated collation - that or a sandwich, and when it comes right down to it, the sandwich might as well be ordure on a plate. No wonder there were always ample measure of them left at the end of the stint. The tables in the canteen were all circular in shape with circular benches attached to them. Roughly eight people would fit around each table. The tables were slightly darker than the walls and ultimatley all the more dreary. The windows in the canteen were quite high up so there were a lot of electrically powered lights to illuminate the otherwise dim room.

The queue was relatively diminutive by the time Victoria and her friends got there so Victoria didn't have to wait long to collect her pizza. Roasted garlic and pepper flavour. It still amazed her that she could eat garlic after all vampires were extremely hypersensitive when it came to garlic. They were also averse to daylight, wooden stakes, both holy and running water and many other common vampire repellents. She also believed that vampires turned at sixteen, at least that's what all the common vampire legends alluded. Victoria had been told she was deemed unready to transform so her mirror wouldn't have accepted her. Shewas pleased she wasn't a full-fledged vampire, although the indeterminate feeling that accompanied the joy unsettled her. She didn't like not being the hegemony of herself.

Victoria, Ariana, Katie, Celeste and Diane were all seated at a table directly opposite the archway giving them a clear view of the adjacent room; Victoria however had her back to the arch. As her friends talked and lunched, talked and luched and talked and lunched, Victoria couldn't help but notice a feeling uneasiness wash over her, a feeling she found out she could not surmount. Her curiosity got the best of her and she began to search for the source of the sensation, completely unaware of the conversation occurring in front of her.

Her eyes fell on an interesting sight as she perceived someone watching her. Even when they knew Victoria was watching them their gaze didn't once shift. It was him. The man Victoria had seen in the assembly hall earlier that day. She noticed his glare was hard yet soft as he watched her. Victoria shifted nervously under his scrutiny before the loud, strident voice of Ariana broke the tension.

"Double D at two o'clock." She said attracting Victoria's attention once more. As if on que Jenna, Regina and Lara strolled up to their table keeping at least a foot away from it incase they 'caught something'.

"Look who it is," she began, as usual, "the deserter. Where were you when we were all being tortured?" She continued, the question directly aimed at Victoria.

Victoria, being a teenage girl, was very good at thinking up excuses. She knew that neither Jenna nor her entourage took Latin, also she also knew her friends didn't either. She thought up a pretty undoubtable yet common alibi.

"I had a doctor's appointment, my parents took me home just before 'it' happened." Victoria's face remained blank as she lied, but to outsmart a fox you had to be a fox.

Jenna seemed to contemplate her excuse for a few seconds before her gaze fell on the exact same man Victoria's had just moments earlier. Without saying anything she gestured to her friends and they sauntered towards the lone man sat at the table situated at a diagonal angle from Victoria's.

The quintet watched with amazement at how the man managed to shrug off any of Jenna advancements, politely asking her to 'get lost'. All the while though, Victoria realised, he was still watching her.

The rest of the day seemed to drag on and on and on. Victoria waved goodbye to her friends as the bus departed the street. She entered the kitchen placing her bag on the table, as per usual, before silently walking past Elizabeth and Ian who stood, apparently just being interuptted during a conversation with each other. The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs was subsequently heard.

"Do you think we should tell her?" Ian asked his wife as she took a sip of the tea she was holding. A shrill scream answered his question.

"I think she already knows." She said before smiling slightly.

"AHHHHHHH!" Victoria screamed as opened the door to her room to find a man standing there. Him. "It's you, you, you watched me at lunch." She splurted out.

"Very observant. Follow me." He said walking out of the door and down the two flights of stairs until he reached the ground floor. Victoria followed, her sometimes irritating curiosity getting the best of her once again. When she got there the man gently pushed her behind him as he face the staircase. Victoria eyed him carefully as he closed his eyes briefly before they snapped open as he whispered: _Ascensionem, descensio, factus introitum._

Almost immediately the stair snapped in the middle, it was broken after all, and the two halves folded down into the now non-existent stair. Out of nowhere a door rose up from the hole until it came to its full door was a simple, brown, wooden door with a golden doorknob. The man looked back at the incredulous face of Victoria before reaching out, turning the knob and stepping through door and disappearing before he could exit through the other side. Victoria stared at the door for a while before a hand reached out forcibly pulling her in.

She screwed her eyes shut as she was pulled through the doorway. When she felt the hand's grip slacken she opened her eyes to she was in a completely different location. The walls of the room she now stood in were allmade of some kind of stone with a dark grey shade. The floor was also made of stone in the same colour. There were no windows just alight wooden torches attached to the walls inside warped metal rings. She surveyed the room and saw two cupboards the same size as wardrobes in addition to a punch bag that hung from the ceiling a single mahogany coffin that rested in the corner of the room.

"What is this place, and who are you?" She asked still taking in her surrounding, not daring to move from her spot.

"This, is your training room, and I am your trainer. The door was Nyx's idea; she thought you might like somewhere... private." He answered

"Okay, training for what?"

"Your future. You can't expect to be Queen of your race without knowing how to use your powers. I saw what you did with the slayers and I have to say I'm impressed."

Victoria could feel herself blushing although she didn't know why as nothing she should have embarrassed her. "I..." She found she couldn't find the words to explain what had happened; she didn;t really know what happened herself. However if this man did know something, perhaps she could trust him.

"Acted on instinct." The man finished for her seeing her giving up. "Mortan Chainswick, My Lady." He introduced whilst bowing.

The phrase 'My Lady' still irked Victoria after her altercation with Richard bon Duverac. "Victoria."

"Victoria it is."

Victoria grew uneasy at the lack of conversation in the air so decided to raise a question to break it. "What exactly do I have to train to be able to do?"

"Before we get on to that why don't we see what you can already do."

"I can't 'do' anything." She fibbed knowing she could do a lot. It scared her, what she was capable of doing, even with so little power.

"Only way to attest that." He said slightly shrewdly. He gestured for Victoria take up a position in the centre of the room.

Victoria acquiesced and stood in the designated area. Mortan stood behind gently grasping her arm and lifting it upwards until if formed a vertical line.

He then gently whispered in her ear, "When I say so, say the Latin word for _fireball_."

Victoria nodded showing she understood and followed Mortan with her eyes as he assumed a position directly opposite her around five feet away. Mortan nodded for her to begin.

Victoria closed her mentally preparing herself for... whatever it was she was about to do. When her eyes snapped open they were a fiery shade of red as the power surged through every vein in her body.

"_Globus ignis_." She said not shouting, but definitely louder than her normal, casual speaking voice.

Almost immediatly a large ball of fire formed in her hand before heading on a direct course to Mortan. He didn't expect her power to be so great; he'd expected a small flame or a spark, not a full-blown fireball. Victoria eyes widened in shock as the fireball neared him. What had she done? She immediatly retracted her arm and allowed it to fall to her side. Mortan's quick reflexes came in handy as he managed to dive out of the fireball's path before it hit him. The two vampires watched as the fireball came into contact with the stone wall. The wall rippled as the fireball hit it - probably one of Nyx's saftey measures.

Mortan looked at his 'student' who look just as shocked at the power she held. Before Mortan could say anything she darted out of the room slamming the door shut as she made her exit. She kept running until she reached the back door leading to the rather large garden. The garden consisted of a set of swings that had been since as long as Victoria could remember and a small swimming pool alongside a paved patio area for barbecues and whatnot.

She ran her fingers through her hair before bracing herself on the framework of the swing set as the world began to spin around her. Her breathing became heavier and heavier as the thought of what she had just done overwhelmed her. It was the middle of the day so she knew Mortan couldn't follow her as he, unlike her, had transformed at sixteen and from the looks of him he was around her age - then again he was immortal. Luke and Loucie were both at friend's houses and Victoria knew that Elizabeth and Ian had gone out as she could not see their cars in the driveway when she ran past the living room window on her way to the garden.

Her head began pounding violently. A 'swooshing' sound attracted her attention and she looked towards the door to see Mortan standing there just out of the sun's harsh rays. He began shouting but all Victoria cold hear was distorted static. She released her grip n the swing set as the world became still once more.

Then, without warning, her eyes rolled up into the back of her head as Victoria collapsed to the ground.

TBC

_I will try to update ASAP but no third chapter of A Bouquet Of Cracked Roses (another one of my stories) will b uploaded tomorrow (7th April 2012) as I have been really busy recently as literally wrote and typed up most of this chapter in the space of three hours. I am also still in the midst of planning subplots for ABOCR. Contrary to the previous statement I have this fic planned out for a total of four stories, each of which will be thirteen chapters longs; that is of course you want to see a sequel._

_Please Review - I have made a pact to reply to any reviews as of today (6th April 2012). Please be as honest as you like._


	4. When The Dead Start Walking: Part 1

_If there is anything you wish to see please do tell me, I will try to fit it in._

_Sorry for the really long wait. I find it quite challenging to write two stories at once but I somehow find it easier to write 'BloodLines' because I basically let my imagination take over whereas with 'A Bouquet Of Cracked Roses' I think it's harder because it's more of a fanfiction than this as this one is set in the future with pretty much all new characters. However don't worry, old ones will make their return one way or another (look out for Chapter 8 - a lot of 'old friends' return in that one._

_Disclaimer: In Chapter 1_

_As with every chapter there is a 'voiceover' at the start. In some cases (including this one) they will be a few quotes that I remember from research for this story._

_I actually spent a very long time researching for this story. I wanted to include as much 'stuff' as possible so here is a little 'teaser' of some of the things that will come into it._

_Ghosts (Specifically the Glamis Castle ghosts. This is because it is a story that highly intrigues me.)_

_Curses (e.g. the Hope Diamond, the Devil's Pool and the Koh-i-nor)_

_Many kinds of mythical creatures (e.g. Tlahuelpuchi, Strzygas, Soucouyants and Strigoi Viu)_

_I won't say anymore just yet so not as to give too much away. I am trying to include myths from many different cultures and regions. Some of the creatures listed have quite macabre milieu/days of yore so I will lessen the macabreness where necessary. Although these things 'may' not appear in this particular story they 'may' occur in the sequel/s that is if you would like to see one/them. I have it planned out for four stories with multiple subplots and numerous subliminal meanings so I would be perfectly happy to write a sequel/some sequels._

_Sorry it's a really long A/N, I just wanted to say that._

_Please review because I would love to know what you think._

_Sorry if the paragraphs are really long, for some reason it's easier for me to write like that as it's kind of in the form of a book and that's how I'm used to writing. If you want me to change the layout I will happily do that just PM or review to let me know._

_If there is anything you would like to see please tell me._

_Quick Note: I am planning a few new stories. It gets very annoying because I tend to have 3-5 stories in my head at one time and I just have to write them down to get them out. One of those stories will probably start being uploaded soon aswell, unfortunatly it is not a 'Young Dracula' fanfic but a 'Game Of Thrones' fanfic - I have just got into the show, it fills the gap during the wait for Young Dracula series 4. The other is a 'Pretty Little Liars' fic. They will both basically be my own version of the story with my own characters. That's what normally happens when I watch a show. I create my own characters and put them in that world._

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"Fling but a stone, the giant dies" - Matthew Green

"Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them" - George Elliot

"To himself everyone is immortal; he may know that he is going to die, but he can never know that he is dead." - Samuel Butler

"While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die." - Leonardo da Vinci

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Three days had transpired since the 'garden occurence'. Victoria was still in the dark from tip to toe about what had actually happened. One moment she was in the garden and the next she was laying in her bed encircled by the anxious visages of the Westwood's. Mortan, her new tutor, had decided to change the training from practical to theoretical until her metamorphosis - almost certainly to prevent any further injuries. Victoria's latest power display had left him with multiple contusions to the dexter bracchium - the right arm - from hitting the wall with brutal force due to his abrupt prevention of abysmal agony or even perhaps mortality - that's expiration not becoming mortal. Due to the enhanced healing abilities possessed by vampires the bruises faded a few hours later, but the phantom pain seemed to resurface when he stood in the vexatious location in addition to every occasion the term 'fire' was vocalized. However it did prove just how powerful and formidable Victoria actually was. Which clearly fightened her. Something about her paradoxical strength and frailty seemed to 'entice' him. He suppressed the feeling whenever he felt it. He was her tutor nothing more. He was here to do a job nothing more. It could never be anything more anyway even if he wanted it to be (which he didn't - obviously). Vampires Law stated that Victoria must espouse someone with a higher rank of nobility then he could ever have. His father was a soldier in the Great War but that didn't change his ranking in society. Especially since his father had died. To die in battle still had it's honours but for a vampire to be outwitted, outsmarted and outlived by a band of petty breathers was almost as much of a disgrace as marrying one - in his fathers time of course. The war ended once Victoria's parents came to power. It had gone on for four years which compared to some human wars wouldn't haved seemed to long if it wasn't for the countless numbers slain by both sides and constant looking over your shoulder to see if there was a slayer trying to stake you or a vampire about to drain you. Nobody really knows how the war started considering the fact there was a pro tempore ceasefire at the time of ignition. The ending however was quite a different and less violent story.

"Your father," Mortan began "was in power for approximately three of the four years of the Great War - the latter years of course. It was in those years he tried to lower the death rate on both sides by ordering his troops to not kill unless they had too, well of course they 'all had to'. However he did end the war with the one thing no other vampire had every shown before... love. After three years of putting it off because of the dangers surrounding his kind, he proposed to your mother. Of course she said yes an-"

"What was my mother like?" Victoria interrupted. She was barely three months old when she was forced into protection. She couldn't even remember her parents' faces, just indecipherable distortions, illegible blurs and a lullaby. She assumed it was a cradlesong her mother used to croon to her when she was a babe in arms. She remembered the first few lines after that her mind was blank. Albeit a vampire's memory is naturaly better than any other species of humanoids. Sometimes, she would sing it to herself, or hum it in her head: Cradle in the calm 'neath the winter's summer moon. And in the afternoon, when all is soft as snow, the soft still winds will blow from the angels holy palm. And the raging storm will still once more.

"I never met her; I'm not that old you know." Mortan tried to lighten the mood; it was true though, he was only eighteen despite the fact that when you come right down to it every vampire looks a great deal more infantile then they actually were - they acted it to, especially when it came to power and influence. "I've read stories." He said noticing it was a delicate situation. He hurridly walked over to the rotting oak cabinet and grasped the handle firmly in his hands taking care not to use too much force incase he broke the handle off. Reaching inside, he ran his fingers along the numerous book spines before stopping on the particular book her was searching for. Nyx had equipped the training room with everything Victoria would need in order to become fully erudite about vampire convention. He pulled the tome out and unsealed the clasp that held it barred. He seated himself on a nearby chair, opposite Victoria, and began to recite the content of the passage:

_Significant Partakers In The Great War_

_Erin Ysabella Dracula née Noble (Regina Lamia - Tertia)_

_Erin Ysabella Dracula is the now 'late' wife of one Vladimir Dominus Imperator Electus Dracula. At the age of seventeen it is believed she left the family home accompanied by her brother, one Ryan Cameron Noble (also late. Husband of Leilah Aleksandrina Noble née Eliot). Born into a slayer family (parents Adam and Leticia Noble) Erin endured many sufferings during her stay with the Dracula family. In the period of time between her official decleration as the Chosen One's intended and her coronation Erin recieved a great deal of critique due to her breather, and slayer, origins. However she met the affronts head on and remained obstinate - a dertermination that functioned. She was eventually accepted into the Lamia community..._

_...of those lost in the war the Dracula family seemed to suffer the most with nearly every Dracula having fallen. Below is a list of those who fell from the Dracula lineage (during the Great War):_

_Ingrid Tarina de Fortunessa née Dracula and her husband Bertrand both perished along with their daughter Arabella._

_Ryan Cameron Noble (sib of Erin Dracula) and his wife Leilah - nulliparous._

_Barry 'Wolfie' Dracula - ateknia._

_Count Dracula, ex-inamorata Magda Westenra and second inamorata Alexandra McCauley._

_Ivan Dracula and daughter Olga Comitessa Dracula._

_Atilla and Krone Westenra and their youngest daughter Lucy along with eldest daughter Magda's inamorato Patrick Zantorian._

_Letitia and Adam Noble (paternal relations of Erin Dracula)._

_Many perished however the parts they played in the war for both the side of the Lamias' and the Animas' will always be remembered._

"Late? She's dead?"

_Author's Note_

_I know it's not a whole chapter length. I have decided to upload the chapters in parts because it means I can upload faster._

**Please Review**


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